TRAVERS exits.
DAVE. [Embarrassed—nodding off.] Breakfast.
KATE. Thank you. [Exits.
DAVE. [Going to bench and beginning work on shaft with draw knife.]
Well—Lizbeth don't know so blamed much about books—[Shakes head.]
But—huh—[Shakes head again.] I tell you—[Works hard—enter
LIZBETH with pan, which she puts on forge.
DAVE. [Commanding.] Come here, Lizbeth.
LIZBETH. [Crosses to DAVE. Pause.] What? [Falling inflection.
DAVE. [Cautiously, approving her.] Why, dog gone it—[Shakes head.] Huh! [Swaggers.] I tell you—[Works.
LIZBETH. [Wonderingly.] What's the matter?
DAVE. [Threatening.] If you was to say seminary to me—[Swaggers.]
Huh! [Works.
LIZBETH. [After pause.] What?